Hunger “Games”

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.

Email This Story

Send email to this addressEnter Your NameAdd a comment hereVerification

Illustration: Julie Peterson

All this “Hunger Games” mania got me thinking: What would happen if a similar situation occurred at Whitman? What circumstances could lead to such a terrifying prospect? Here is a potential and (hopefully) unrealistic situation:

Due to lack of available food, laziness to continue to produce food, punishment to ungrateful college students, or merely for some sick pleasure and satisfaction that only the drones of Bon Appétit could find amusing, no more food is given to the students. Instead, Bon Appétit invests all their time and efforts into putting the school on lockdown by keeping students on campus via watchmen, i.e. former workers camping out in cars in case any unfortunate student tries to escape, or through the many squirrels Bon Appétit has trained to keep watch and eavesdrop on students.

Just to prove how much power they have over students, Bon Appétit decides to pit each class year versus each other in a battle for survival. Each class elects six of their craftiest, strongest, cleverest and craziest mofos to fight against the other classes to death or submission in the unpleasant dystopia formerly known as Prentiss Dining Hall. In a perverted version of a Mr. Whitman campaign, chosen students ask for donations for supplies they might need in their impending fight. The entire student body is mandated to attend the “games,” which will be filmed live. The contestants are placed in the dining hall and only allowed to use what is available to them, i.e. stale bread,which can cause blunt force trauma; cups of hot tea to burn the others; or the “poisonous” shrimp, mushroom and corn soup, which causes vomiting and, in extreme cases, death if even a spoonful is consumed. The winning class is presented with unlimited flex dollars/meal swipes, while the other classes must forge for food on campus or use their two meal swipes a week cautiously. With a final slap in the face, Bon Appétit reminds all Whitman students to “not fuck with the people who handle your food.”